It was 1am, the housewarming party had been a great success, and only one guest remained. One week prior, Elena and I had moved into a new apartment. For the past few days, we'd been busily furnishing it and buying everything we needed. It was the first time either of us had signed a lease; we were both 23 and had been living with our respective parents after graduation, saving up the money we earned so that we could start a life together. That night, we'd invited everyone we'd known. Our cleaning efforts from only a few hours earlier were soon laid to waste; everyone got drunk and had a good time.
So, inebriated and euphoric, I cuddled up to Elena on the couch, facing Andrew, who sat on the love-seat. Had I been more sober, I might've been a bit irritated that Andrew was still there. Compared to the other friends we'd invited, we didn't know him very well. Yet there he was, still drinking in our apartment, still ogling Elena. To be fair, everyone had been ogling Elena. When I met her in college, she'd been cute, but few would have called her sexy. She came in at a short 5'2, wore glasses, had slightly curly brown hair, and gorgeous DD breasts. In the past, she had this bad habit of straightening her hair and wearing tops that concealed her bust. Since graduating, she'd grown more confident in her natural features; she wore her hair big and curly and she chose outfits that showed off as much cleavage as possible. The result is that guys now looked at her. Though she seemed to instantly take to this, it took some getting used to for me. Tonight, she'd chosen to wear a tight black, low-cut, sleeveless cocktail dress as well as thigh-high stockings and heels. Despite showing off everything she had, the effect was still classy.
Anyway, Andrew was a coworker. I do data analysis for a lobbying firm—I'm hoping to work my way up—and he's one of my few friends there. So I invited him to the housewarming party. He's a tall muscular young man, about 25 years old, with wavy black hair and a close-cut beard. He must've had a lot to drink that night, because I would've thought he'd be savvy enough to realize that I might want some alone time with Elena, who was currently rubbing my thigh, head resting against my shoulder, while he told some story from his childhood about getting attacked by bees.
"Babe," said Elena, "Let's have another round of cocktails."
"Actually, I thought I might go to bed," I said.
"Aw, don't be a buzz-kill. We're having fun. What do you say Andrew, another drink?"
"I think that might be in order," said Andrew.
"See! Go make us some cocktails." As if I hadn't already been persuaded, Elena lightly licked my cheek and winked at me. I got up and went out to the kitchen, where I mixed three Boulevardiers: rye whiskey, Campari, and Italian vermouth. I carefully brought the glasses out and did a double-take when I realized that Elena had joined Andrew on the love-seat, her leg draped across his. "I hope you didn't mind, love, it's just that Andy over here seemed so lonely."
"I don't mind," I said, stifling a flare of jealousy, "I assume he's okay with it."
Andrew looked at me and grinned. Elena threw back her head and burst out laughing; Andrew took the opportunity to take a long look down her dress.
"I did. She left me a a long peek down the front of her dress. I sat on the couch. "I toast," said Andrew, "To George and Elena, and to their beautiful new abode!"
"Yes!" said Elena, raising her glass too quickly and spilling some of her cocktail, "To us. And to new friends!" She nodded at Andrew. We all drank. "So tell me, Andy," she continued, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"We split up a month ago."
"Oh, how sad. How long had you been together?"
"Two years."
"Two years!" Elena suddenly seemed very upset. She cuddled closer to Andy and began stroking his hair. "It's alright, something will come along."
"You two seem to be doing pretty well."
"Us? We're doing great. You know the secret? It's changing up the sex. You gotta introduce new stuff into the bedroom. Always."
"Yeah?" asked Andrew, looking at me, "You guys have a wild time, huh?"
"Oh, yes," answered Elena, "Just last week, George bought some rope—"
"Honey," I said, "This is getting a bit personal."
"Come on, George. Andy's a friend. He can handle it. Can't you Andy?"
"I think so."
"You know I didn't used to give blowjobs? But two months ago, I thought, why not? You only live once. Gotta conquer your fears. And now, I consider myself the blowjob queen. A few dashes of the tongue and a simple relaxing of the throat will do wonders. I love watching how George reacts, isn't that right George?"
